A Percentage of Infinity - Part 2
by Papergirl
Summary: The second installment of my story in which Ellie discovers a startling piece of information. More coming soon!


Merry Christmas all!

I am back with a belated X-mas gift (or Kwanzaa, Hanukkah, Boxing Day, etc.)... the second part of my continuing saga. First off, I just want to give a big hug and "thank you" to everyone who gave me feedback about Part 1. Without you, I wouldn't have been motivated to write Part 2, so I dedicate this one to you. I worked hard on it and I hope I don't let you down.

Disclaimers: I don't own Early Edition, but I am fighting for it to get back on the air. I did, however, create the characters of Eleanor Zeke Hobson, Katherine Hobson, and Kyle Webster. I have taken liberty on several things, so please, no complaining. I thought about the feedback I was getting and how I felt, and since I really missed Gary and the holiday spirit caught ahold of me, I cannot be held responsible for what my fingers typed. :-)

Author's Further Notes: I just wanted to warn everybody - this story has taken a totally different direction than what I originally planned so this part may not make much sense now, but when Part 3 rolls around, BAM! it will all become clear. And now, I present to you...

title: A Percentage of Infinity - Part 2

author: Papergirl (Ambino1111@prodigy.net)

> "We each have our part to play, our life to live; it's our own percentage of infinity." - Papergirl

* * *

"One pretzel, please."

"Dollar fifty."

Thirteen year old handed over six quarters and took the salty treat. She hungrily ate half of it as she continued down the crowded Chicago streets, then wrapped the other half and shoved it in her pocket.

At the corner she waited patiently for the Walk sign as she checked her coat pockets for more change.

Times had been tough since the divorce. She and her mother had arrived in the chilly Windy City the past Tuesday, and had been living in their car. Ellie currently had some time to kill because her mom was on a job interview. If Katherine got the job at Peters, Nicol & Weissman, she and Ellie would have enough money to rent an apartment.

Ellie looked up and saw the sign change to Walk. She checked left and right and began to cross. She was a few steps off the curb when someone starting yelling her name. Ellie turned in time to see a figure come lunging at her. The mysterious figure tackled her just as a truck went speeding past.

The figure, a blonde woman in a brown jacket, rose and offered Ellie her hand.

"Are you okay, Eleanor?"

The girl nodded, a little dazed. "Th- Thank you. I coulda... I could have been killed."

The blonde woman smiled, tucking a folded newspaper into her coat. "You have to be more careful."

"I will," Ellie said solemnly. The woman opened her mouth but Ellie continued.

"Wait, I... I owe you my life. Let me-" she searched her pockets, finding only the half-eaten pretzel. She pulled it out of her pocket. "Here, I - I don't have anything else to give you. I'm sorry, Ma'am."

The woman looked touched at the offering. "My name's Lindsey. Lindsey Romick. And you keep that. In fact," she looked around and spotted the pretzel vendor. "Let me buy you another one."

"Oh, I couldn't possibly, Miss Romick. You've been so kind already, and it wouldn't be right-"

"Nonsense. It'd hurt my feelings if you didn't let me buy you another one."

Ellie smiled up at her as they walked to the pretzel man.

"Thank you very much, Miss Romick."

"Call me Lindsey," she said, handing the man a dollar and fifty cents. She took the warm pretzel and gave it to Ellie.

"Thank you," Eleanor said again, carefully wrapping the new pretzel in a napkin and putting it in her pocket. She took out the half and nibbled at it.

"Why didn't you eat the new one?" Lindsey asked curiously.

"Oh, uh- I'm saving it for my mom. Money's a little tight right now. I mean, I really appreciate it, but we just got here, and Mom's on an interview, so I thought that I'd just give..." Ellie trailed off when she realized she was babbling.

Lindsey looked at the young girl strangely, as if she knew a secret about her.

"Eleanor, I want you to remember that no matter how bad things may be, they'll always get better. Don't ever lose faith. Can you remember that?"

"Yes, I'll remember. Thank you, Lindsey."

Ellie turned to leave.

"Wait! Eleanor, I think you dropped this," Lindsey handed her a key chain.

"But I didn't, I mean... I don't think it's mine."

"It has your initials, doesn't it?"

Ellie looked down. Sure enough, EZH was inscribed on it.

"Well, I guess."

"You guess?"

"Well, those used to be my initials."

Lindsey looked confused, but only momentarily. She cocked her head to the side and smiled.

"I'm pretty sure it's yours."

Ellie nodded dumbly, taking the key chain and staring at it in wonder.

"Thank you," she said softly. Lindsey smiled again and started to walk away.

"Remember what I told you, Eleanor," she called over her shoulder. "Don't ever lose faith."

Ellie jerked awake. It was 6:30 already.

She slapped the radio off and laid back down, staring up at the ceiling. Had that dream really happened? Was it some sort of sign?

Ellie climbed out of bed when the paper came. She let the cat in, glanced at the paper, and hurried into the shower.

She was now more determined than ever to find out what her dreams had been trying to tell her. As soon as she was finished saving people, she was going to start investigating.

"Good morning, Ellie," Marissa chirped as Eleanor stumbled over to the coat rack.

"Kid suffocates in snow drift, man falls off roof, woman loses child at mall," Ellie mumbled, tugging on her black leather coat.

"Coffee?" Marissa asked, carefully pouring a mug.

"Maybe a little," Ellie yawned, squatting down to zip up her boots.

"Ellie, you need to relax," Marissa instructed, holding out the cup.

"I don't have time to relax," Eleanor said, rubbing her eyes sleepily before snatching the hot coffee from her friend. "Especially with this blizzard."

"Despite the snow, Eleanor, you need to make time to relax. It's not even Christmas yet and you're practically dead on your feet."

"Practically?" Ellie asked with a smile that evolved into a yawn. "I'm exhausted."

She paused, closing her eyes and momentarily reveling in the warmth of the brown liquid, trying to remember the feeling for when she faced the blizzard outside. Then she sighed and opened her eyes.

"Hey, how come you're here so early? Where's Chuck?"

"He's outside shoveling. It started snowing again so the boys are home from school - Kyle stayed home and took them out sledding... but you avoided answering my question."

"You're good," Ellie complimented with a grin. "Yeah, well, I'll try to relax, but it's the sixteenth already and I don't have any shopping done... I've been so busy."

"Just promise me you'll take it a bit easier?"

"I said I'll try, but I gotta get going. Jimmy Orson's going to suffocate in thirty minutes."

"You sound just like your father," Marissa mused.

Ellie stopped. She shook her head slightly and placed the half-empty mug on the bar.

"You know, it hasn't even been three months and I'm totally wiped. How did my dad do this everyday for years?"

Marissa smiled, thinking of the past.

"It wasn't easy, believe me. He ran himself ragged all the time."

"What about when he got sick?" Ellie asked as she pulled a baby blue hat over her head.

"He had to keep going. Chuck and I helped when we could, and sometimes the paper would give him a break, but most of the time it was your father's determined good will that pushed him on. That, and his terrific immune system."

Ellie grinned, wrapping a matching baby blue scarf around her face.

"Maybe I inherited that, too."

"I hope so."

"Well, I gotta go. Have a good day, Marissa, and close up early - we're getting another five inches today," she called as she hurried out the door into the frigid, icy, snow world of downtown Chicago.

Ellie made good time, and she found herself going through her and her mom's stuff at Storage Space by ten o'clock. The paper, for once, was free of catastrophes for the rest of the day, and Ellie was fervently searching every one of the boxes for the key chain from her dream.

In the bottom of the fifth box, Ellie's breath caught in her throat. Carefully, she picked the key chain up, a solitary key dangling, and studied it. She was amazed at its mere existence, that the even that she dreamed of had actually happened.

"There has to be a reason," Ellie murmured, turning the key chain over in her hand. "ITB?"

Her brain frantically searched for the meaning of the initials, and within a moment's thoughts she was supplied with the answer.

She quickly repacked and restacked the boxes, and hurried off to the bank.

"Here you go, Miss," the kindly old banker said, handing Eleanor the drawer and the key chain. "I'll be in the lobby. Take all the time you need."

Ellie nodded, not really paying attention. She sat down at a nearby table and removed the only thing inside the drawer.

Eleanor Hobson' was elegantly handwritten on an envelope. Ellie opened it with care and gently pulled out the folded letter.

Eleanor- 

I'll be brief. I know I won't have the paper for long, so I have taken it upon myself to share with you what I have learned, so as to save you some time and heartache. First of all, as with many things, the paper is a mixed blessing at times. However, through my experiences, I have come to view it as a fantastic gift, a rare glimpse into the intricacies of the universe. As part of the chosen few, we each have our lives to live, our parts to play; it's our own percentage of infinity. Each individual touches so many other lives, and we can touch even more. Everyone leaves a mark on each other's lives, sometimes without even meeting. So, young Eleanor, I will bestow on you some of my knowledge and hopefully affect your life in a fantastic way, even though I only saw you once, many years ago. First, the cat is a special soul. He understands exactly what you are going through and sometimes is our only link between past, present, and future. Give him milk and treats, but don't give him a name - Cat has a certain charm that you'll come to love. Second, the human spirit is astoundingly resilient. Given time, love, and occasionally doctors, you can heal from any wound. Third, and most important, you have to be able to look beyond what you can see. Miracles do happen - one happens every morning at six thirty - but they don't stop there. Sometimes you find what you're looking for only after you've stopped searching, but sometimes you find it when you can view things in a new light. Lastly, a reminder that libraries contain a wealth of information - you can find almost anything there. To conclude, Eleanor, follow your heart, listen to your dreams, and don't ever lose faith. Somebody will always be watching your back.

- Lindsey Romick 

Ellie folded the letter and returned it to the envelope, carefully stowing it in her inner coat pocket. She had been taken aback by the power of her predecessor's compassion and understanding. Intrigued by the mysterious clues, Ellie left the bank as quickly as she could and trudged through the snow to the Chicago Public Library.

After an hour of browsing through the microfiche system, Ellie's blurry eyes had discovered a few interesting facts. The first was that her father was in the Chicago Sun-Times a lot. The second was that Chuck, Marissa, Lois, Bernie, her mother, and even Ellie herself had been in the paper quite a few times, too. The third, her first lead, was that a Detective Marion Crumb was mentioned in many of the articles concerning her father. After another half an hour of research, Ellie was rewarded with the retired policeman's current address.

"May I help you?"

"Yes, I'm looking for Marion Crumb."

"Are you a friend or a relative?"

"Well, I'm Eleanor Hobson. He and my father were... friends."

"Gary Hobson? Oh, he was a sweet boy. Came once a week to see Marion after his accident. I haven't seen him in years. How is he?"

"He died."

"I'm sorry, dear... Marion's in room 224. Go down that hallway, third door on the right."

"Thank you," Ellie said politely, and followed the woman's directions. When she reached 224 she raised her hand nervously and knocked.

"Just a minute!" she heard, and there was some noise on the other side of the door. The lock clicked off, and Ellie heard a wheel squeak. "Come on in!"

Eleanor cautiously opened the door and stepped inside. A gruff-looking man wearing jeans and a flannel shirt was sitting in a wheelchair across the room.

"Can I help ya?" he asked, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Well, uh... yes, sir. I mean, I hope so... sir. See, my name's Eleanor Hobson, um... I'm Gary's daughter. I saw some old newspaper articles mentioning you two and, since you were close to him I was -"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop right there, little lady. I wasn't that close to him. We were sorta pals. We got on each other's nerves all the time, but... hey, wait a minute. You're Hobson's daughter?"

Ellie nodded affirmation.

"You do kinda remind me of him. I dunno, maybe it's the eyes. Or that paper in your hand. What is it with Hobsons and newspapers?"

"I'm not sure you want to know, sir."

Crumb nodded, then grimaced a little in pain. He shifted in his chair. "I haven't seen you since you were a toddler. How've you been?"

"Okay, I guess," she paused, then curiosity got the most of her. "Did my father really come visit you every week?"

"Sure he did. I got to know him a lot more in those visits than in all our previous meetings, even when I worked at the bar."

He stopped for a moment, lost in thought, then continued. "Anyways, have a seat. Want something to drink? Water? Coffee? Tea?"

"No, thank you. I'm good."

"Okay, then... Why're ya here?"

"Well... to be honest, I don't really know. I mean, it's a longshot, but... do you remember anything odd about my father's death?"

"Your father's life was odd," Crumb answered, giving Ellie the impression that he was avoiding the question. "He had this thing, I dunno, where he knew what was going to happen before it did. I didn't want to know how - I figured it's his business, not mine, if he's got ESPN. But he was harmless. Very persistent, and a pretty good actor, but an overall good guy. He kinda reminded me of that guy that carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, ya know? When I went to his wedding, though, he seemed more relaxed, definitely happier... He was real upset when I got shot though. Can you believe it? Over thirty years on the force and some punk kid who's trigger-happy cripples me in a gas station. Some luck I got! Anyway, I think Hobson blamed himself, something silly like that. He'd visit me every week and he always had this sad, guilty, puppy-dog look. Yeah, your dad was a good man. I was sorry to see him go... to, uh, see him die - I mean, I was sorry that he died."

Ellie gave him a strange look. Something about what he said seemed odd to her, but she couldn't pinpoint it. She felt like she was on the verge of an epiphany. Suddenly, she had the urge to return to the library - there had to be something there that she was missing.

"It was, uh, nice meeting you, Mr. Crumb. I'm sorry to cut my visit short, but I have got to get going," Ellie said quickly, crossing the room to shake his hand.

"Call me Marion. And it was nice seeing you again, Miss Eleanor."

As soon as Ellie left, Crumb wheeled himself over to the telephone. He picked it up and dialed a number he had dialed many times in the past fourteen years.

"Hey, it's me... Yeah... She knows something's up... She didn't say, but I think it'd be a good idea. You can probably catch up to her a two blocks from here... Okay. Bye."

Ellie jerked awake. She had fallen asleep with her head on a pile of old newspapers, printed off articles, and copied pages after searching through almost every edition of the Sun-Times from the past twenty years.

She stretched in her seat with a yawn. Her stomach growled and she checked her watch - 4:02 PM. She hadn't eaten anything all day. Slipping on her coat and gathering her purse and papers, Eleanor noticed a manila envelope resting on one of the piles. Curious, she picked it up and cautiously broke the seal. She dumped the contents onto the table.

What she saw made her brows furrow in confusion. There were two pieces of paper. One was a Sun-Times from June 29th - the day after her father had been killed. She had already copied the article, but she read it softly to herself.

"Murder at O'Hare - Man found dead in bathroom. An unidentified man was found dead in a bathroom at O'Hare International Airport. According to police, the murder occurred at approximately 5:45 last night in the men's bathroom by Terminal C. Despite a lack of witnesses, the police reportedly have a suspect in custody. The names of the victim and the suspect are being withheld at the family's request."

The other paper in the envelope was a copy of a slightly different front page. Ellie guessed it was the early edition.

"Murder at O'Hare - Man found dead in bathroom. A man identified as Antonio Barone was found dead in a bathroom at O'Hare International Airport. According to police, the murder occurred at approximately 5:45 last night in the men's room by Terminal C. There were reportedly no witnesses and the police are following various leads."

Ellie couldn't think of why the two stories were so slightly different, but she knew it was important. Something had happened when her father arrived to stop the shooting. Had he been shot instead of the original victim? Questions flooded her mind, but she had no answers.

Frustrated and starving, Ellie left the library and headed to McGinty's.

"Did you enjoy your burger, Ellie?" Marissa asked, taking a seat on the barstool next to her.

"Yeah, it was good," Ellie mumbled, distractedly playing with a French fry.

"That's good," Marissa said quietly. She could tell something was bothering the younger woman. "You know, Ellie, I'm a good listener. Do you have anything you want to talk about?"

It took Ellie a moment to register that Marissa was talking, and another moment to realize she was talking to her. She laughed in response.

"Marissa, I have a million questions, but I don't think you can help me with the answers."

"Try me," Marissa challenged with a smile. "I was able to help your dad even before my psych degree."

Eleanor was quiet. Marissa tried to block out the noise from the late lunch/ early dinner crowd and strained to listen. She was about to ask if Ellie was okay when the girl spoke.

"How did my dad die?" The words were so soft that even though Marissa was sitting next to her she could barely hear.

Gary's old friend was stunned into silence. She hadn't expected a question like that. She opened her mouth but no words came out.

Ellie turned in her seat and grasped Marissa's shoulders firmly. Her green eyes were dark with intensity.

"Marissa, listen. Please. I need to know. How did Gary Hobson die?"

"He was shot," Marissa croaked, shocked by Eleanor's actions and the desperation in her voice. She cleared her throat to rid herself of the large lump that formed whenever she thought about Gary's death. "He, he was so happy that day - ecstatic. I thought he was going to burst. I even told him that, and he laughed... he told me that someone was going to get shot at the airport - that was really all he said about it. Stuff like that was commonplace, but I told him to be careful anyway - I always did. He said 'Always,' and then he told me that the next time he'd see me, he'd have you and Katherine with him."

Marissa's mouth felt dry. She swallowed, then paused hesitantly. "The cops called me around 7:15. They didn't say much, just that Gary had been shot, and they asked me to come down to the station. I remember hanging up that phone and having the realization of what the man meant hit me. Gary must have been dead already, otherwise I'd have gone to a hospital. There must have been no hope for him, but even then I prayed. I prayed to God, I prayed to St. Jude, the patron saint of lost and hopeless causes - I even prayed to the Paper. But when I got to the station, a lieutenant sat down with me and said that Gary had been shot and killed in a bathroom at O'Hare. And for some reason - they said it was his parents' wishes, but I had my doubts - they didn't want much publicity. You and your mom hadn't flown in yet, and the only person I could think of was Chuck. I had them call Chuck to ID the body. He flew in as soon as he could - got to the station around 10:30 that night. While I was waiting, the lieutenant led me to a room and... it was the strangest thing, but I swear that in that hallway I felt Gary's presence. I even thought I smelled his cologne. But I chalked it up to grief and never told anyone."

"That's all you remember?" Ellie asked quietly, releasing Marissa's shoulders. The older woman nodded, a sad look on her face. They remained silent for a while, lost in their thoughts. Ellie coughed and the spell was broken.

"Is Chuck here?" Ellie asked, turning to look around the restaurant.

"Yeah, he's with Jade in the office. At least, he was."

"Thanks, Marissa," Ellie called over her shoulder, jogging to the office.

She knocked twice and entered, surprised to find Jade asleep on the couch and Chuck sitting on the floor, surrounded by several mounds of paperwork.

"Heya, Ellie. What's up?" Chuck whispered, an exhausted smile on his face.

"Um, Chuck, could I talk to you?"

"Huh? Oh sure, Hang on," he carefully stood and climbed over the stacks to join her at the door. He gently closed the door behind him and motioned her upstairs to the apartment that had become hers.

"Sorry about that. I think Jade's coming down with a cold... So, what can I do for ya?"

Ellie decided to jump right in.

"I need you to tell me about my father's death."

A flicker of something passed over his features, but it was gone too quickly for Eleanor to decipher it.

"I don't like to talk about it," Chuck affirmed quietly, lowering his eyes to the floor.

"I know, but I really need to know. I have to make sure-"

Chuck looked up sharply, his eyes staring right into hers with an odd gleam. "Make sure of what?" 

Ellie broke eye contact, suddenly finding her hands extraordinarily interesting. She grew very nervous and uncertain. Maybe she was trying too hard, maybe it was time to put her silly theory to rest.

Then again, maybe not.

After all, it couldn't hurt to ask.

"I wanted to make sure he was... uh, that he died. You're the only one that can tell me the truth. I mean, I know how silly it must seem, but... I don't think he's gone. I can't believe it. I just, I have this feeling and..." she took a deep breath. "Is my father really dead?"

He stared at her for a long time, his face a mask. After what seemed like an eternity to Eleanor, he shifted slightly.

"Gary Hobson is dead," he spoke slowly, emphasizing each word with a finality that shattered Ellie's hope. Then he spun around and went downstairs.

Ellie stared after him for a second before nodding slowly, tears running down her cheeks as she sank to the ground.

December 24, 2021 (Three days later) 

"Merry Christmas, everyone!" Eleanor shouted, walking into the warmth of the Fishman home with her arms full of bags and colorfully wrapped boxes.

"Merry Christmas!" Jade greeted her with a hug, then took some of the presents as Chuck joined them from the kitchen.

"Merry Christmas, Ellie," Chuck said cheerfully, taking the rest of the gifts from her hands. Ellie smiled her thanks and quickly removed her winter bundling. She gave Chuck a quick hug, took back a few packages, and followed them into the living room.

Eleanor surveyed the mountain of presents surrounding the brightly decorated flashing tree. "I take it I'm the last one here?"

"Oh yeah," Jade confirmed jovially, leading the two to the kitchen. "Even Bernie and Lois got here two hours ago."

Ellie opened her mouth to explain her tardiness, then remembered who she was with and realized she didn't need to say anything - they understood.

The rather spacious room was bustling with activity. Jade joined Marissa and Amber, who were hovering around the stove, putting the finishing touches on all the side dishes. Kyle was at the head of the table where he was demonstrating to fourteen year old Austin Fishman how to properly carve a turkey. Gary Fishman and the Webster twins were busily setting the table. In the far corner Lois Hobson was instructing her husband on how to work the video camera; Marissa's guide dog slept at their feet.

Dinner was, by far, the best meal Ellie had ever eaten. She wasn't sure if it was because of the terrific food or that she felt like she was part of a really wonderful family.

When everyone was excitedly opening gifts, Chuck took Ellie into the hallway.

"Did you see Jade's face when she opened your gift? That diamond necklace was gorgeous-" Chuck raised his hand to stop Ellie's cheerful gushing.

"I have two really important gifts for you, Eleanor," he said seriously, his eyes searching hers.

"What is it?" Ellie asked, her smile disappearing.

Chuck reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a slightly yellowed envelope.

"This is a letter your father wrote to you a long time ago. I wasn't supposed to give it to you yet, but..." he handed her the envelope.

"Wow," Ellie breathed, staring with childlike wide-eyed wonder at the object in her hands. My Zeke' she read to herself, tracing the letters with her fingers.

"That's not all," Chuck continued. He coughed nervously and straightened his festive musical tie. "Everyone should be able to get what they really want for Christmas."

At Ellie's inquiring gaze he reached into his pocket again and pulled out a small, folded slip of paper. He played with it in his hands before offering it to Eleanor, eyes cast downward.

"This is the, uh, address where Thomas Fitzgerald is currently living."

"Thomas Fitzgerald?"

"Uh-huh. I'm sure it's explained in the letter, but Gary Hobson had to enter the Witness Protection Program, and he became Thomas Fitzgerald."

"You mean...?"

"Yes. Merry Christmas, Ellie. Your father is alive."

END PART 2 

Thank you for reading. I hope you had a wonderful holiday. 


End file.
